


bury your soul

by GalekhXigisi



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Has ADHD, Deaf Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Gen, Mayura never existed, Mute Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Peacock Adrien Agreste, Trans Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 22:55:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21144587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: After a long while into being a hero and living without his mother alive, Adrien gets given a gift by his father, simply something his mother left to him before her passing.





	1. Chapter 1

After his mother’s death, Adrien seemed to go silent. He didn’t talk, didn’t try to bicker with his father like he once playfully did, instead just took a  _ silent vow, _ one that had yet to leave him, even all these years later. It’s been almost five years now. He was just ten, watching his mother wither away before she was ut into a medical induced coma, not yet passed but certainly mourned despite everyone telling him that she’d wake up fine. Five years of no new news, just the woman in the basement whose dizzy spells kept him from seeing her then and those damn dizzy spells that evolved into that damn coma. 

He’s in school now, friends with an extrovert who loves school and being around people. Adrien doesn’t exactly love being around people. He likes having just a couple of close friends,  _ really _ close friends, ones that won’t tell him his voice is too high and his features are too soft to be masculine like some of the photographers. He especially took to silence after that, making sure he doesn’t utter a singular noise unless he absolutely  _ has to, _ which had yet to happen. 

He had found that being transformed as Chat Noir makes his features sharper and dials up his head and sight much more than Ladybug thinks. Often times, he can hear her heartbeat, a steady strum that grounds him in the moment when things are too overwhelming. She sits with him, listens to the songs he shows her that Nino showed him. 

She’s an extrovert, just like Nino is, just like Alya and Marinette are, too. He doesn’t get to hear Marinette speak much, but he has decided he likes her voice, something so calming and nice, even if she stutters so much around him. He silently suspects she doesn’t like him, but everyone turns down that theory so easily, pushing it away because, _ It’s just the famous model with a designer thing, Adrien. _ He tries to chuck it up to that, but it’s hard when he’s seen her talk to his father without a singular stutter, as well as Jagged Stone and many other famous people. 

He doesn’t dwell on it, not after the first time he had cried to Plagg, who had been the first to hear Adrien’s stuttered, broken voice since his mother had first started getting sick. It wasn’t much, just the pried on wonder if Marinette hated him like she had the very first time they had met, which had also ended in a mess of tears before they made up. He stops dwelling on it because Marinette was slowly stopping. He’s patient with her because he hopes that she’ll be just as patient with him when he’s finally able to find his voice again. He knows he’ll be stuttering, not used to talking, but he can hope that he’ll get back that spark of life that had yet to be replaced in his life. 

He’s fine with being mute. He had spent most of his life in silence, anyway, known as the little dancer in the front that listened and obeyed until he decided that his name didn’t fit anymore and he didn’t want to keep wearing those tight uniforms that make him feel rather icky. He can summon his Cataclysm without even saying it. It’s easy, just mouthing it. There was another Black Cat that had their voice box ripped out during a battle that had unlocked it. As long as Plagg knows the boy is mouthing the words, he can unlock the suit and powers alike. It’s casual and Adrien doesn’t think he’d change a thing about his kwami. He  _ adores _ the little beast, looks up to him, even! 

However, his father stands in front of him now, a box in hand. “Adrien,” he says in a tone that makes the boy tense up much more than he wants to admit, “Your mother… She left you something after her....” He doesn’t finish. Adrien doesn’t need him to. He just gives a nod, silently dismissing the sentence. “I have been avoiding giving it to you, but… As her state hasn’t gotten any better lately, I believe it is now alright to pass it along to you.” 

The man holds forth a box, one with six sides plus a top and bottom. It’s not red and brown like the box Master Fu had presented him with. It was silver with white embedded designs, one of the boxes that his father only ever used for special occasions, only ever gifted by the Agreste family. Nathalie was the only person outside of the family that a box with that design. And, well, maybe Chloe, but Adrien had only given ger a box like that once and he hasn’t seen it since, so he highly doubts it’s anywhere even near the house. 

Adrien tentatively takes the box. He doesn’t want to open it in here. Thankfully, his father waves a dismissive hand and announces, “That is all, Adrien.” 

The boy leaves the room within an instant, not giving the adult time to change his mind. He doesn’t think he could handle if Gabriel made him open it in front of him, nor be able to control what he  _ knows _ is in the box. It’s the broach his mother always wore, always there in the photos, pinned to her chest, often pinning the cloak there. 

He stumbles back to his room, holding the box close to his chest and ignoring Plagg, who seems to be confused as to why Adrien was clinging to the box, so full of emotions already. However, the boy slips into his room and instantly opens it, watching as the blue light overtakes his vision, forming a new kwami in front of himself. Sure, he hadn’t known then, but it made sense. His mother never took it off, never once giving anyone a chance to pry it from her, either. She was solid with the miraculous, solidly fighting against anyone that  _ dared _ get too close. 

The kwami in front of him was once that his mother would tell him about when he was a child, laying in bed after a ballet recital, tuckered out and blistered up. He remembers listening to the story of Le Paon and her little sidekick. He mouths the kwamis name, hands held out to hold her.  _ “Duusu,” _ sits on his lips, not spoken, just standing between them. No version of Le Paon had been seen since Adrien was a baby, before he had even been thought up, just when Emilie was falling head over heels for a struggling fashion designer. 

The kwami smiles and presents herself with a gigantic grin adorning her. “I am Duusu,” she greets, bowing, “And you must be my chosen!” He grins, holding her with his own radiating happiness. “I am the Peacock kwami! I can grant you a guardian with the words  _ Duusu, spread my feathers! _ Just say them and I’ll transform you into the holder!” 

Adrien frowns at the other, bringing one hand to his throat and shaking his head. He doesn’t want to just keep mouthing the words to her. 

“That’s quite alright, holder! All kwamis can establish a mental connection with their holders! It’s a bit strenuous on us, but I assure you, I can do so with your permission! Kwamis don’t normally do such because it hurts but-”

He shakes his hands in front of himself. He doesn’t want to  _ hurt her! _

“I will be fine,” she assures within a second, not even watching his hands to already know. “I have a mental connection with my previous owner’s daughter. It only hurts to sever the connection, that’s all.” 

“Hold on,” Plagg huffs, “Duusu, what the  _ fuck?” _

“Plagg,” the kwami asks, turning towards the other. She hadn’t even noticed him. “I didn’t know I’d see you here! Is this child the new guardian?” 

“No!” Plagg huffs once again. “He’s  _ my _ holder! Chat Noir! He’s  _ my _ boy!” 

“Does he have a name outside of Chat Noir?” 

“Adrien Agreste,” the black cat responds grumpily. 

_ “Oh,” _ Duusu hums, flushing. “Formerly…  _ something else, _ correct,” she asks the holder, who nods. “Then… Son of Emilie Agreste, we should still have a mental connection? Have you formed one with Plagg?” 

Adrien turns the question in his head before shrugging. He’s not sure. He turns to the kwami, who gives a sharp nod. “It comes with the transformation with me. Not many kwamis make it a necessity, but… The Black Cats don’t have good luck and I have to keep track of them somehow.” 

Adrien frowns, moving his hand to form two letters, questioning,  _ LB? _ The singular time they had switched kwamis could count, right? She had used it, that could easily justify her own switch. Plagg shakes his head, though, which actually relaxes the boy far more than he wants to admit. Plagg doesn’t seem to respond, grumpily settling on Adrien’s shoulder, still half-heartedly glaring at the bird. 

“Are you angry with me, Plagg?” 

Plagg shakes his head. He’s really  _ not _ angry with the other kwami. They were like  _ siblings, _ a separated brother and sister. “Just missed you, fucker,” he mumbles to the other. It’s the best they’re going to get for him, not that they mind. They know he’s being sincere with his words. 

The day churns on with the two kwamis half-heartedly bickering. Adrien knows they’ll be the best of friends tomorrow, just like he had been with his cousin, Felix, who he didn’t see much anymore. He relaxes with their banter. It’s background noise, something that makes him realize that he’s not alone. He likes their company. They’re a reassurance he didn’t know he needed until now. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Adrien smiles widely at Nino, flashing his teeth for the boy who examines the newly adorned miraculous with admiration. “Dude, nice broach,” he says, “When’d you get it? Looks so cool!” 

He closes his palm most of the way, thumb jutted at his self as he moves the point from his lips to his cheek.  _ Yesterday, _ the motion says for him. He hopes Nino can understand. He was slowly learning sign language for his friend. They had known each other for tear years now, but sign language was hard, so he couldn’t dare blame his best friend. He still had issues himself from time to time, not that anyone couldn’t catch the slight hesitance as he tries to think out his own motions. It’s hard sometimes. 

“Yesterday, right,” he asks, head cocked to the side. Adrien’s grin expands as he gives him to thumbs up, nodding enthusiastically in support. “That’s great! Did your dad make it?” 

He shakes his head. He points at his mouth twice, frowning for a moment. He doesn’t know the motions for heirloom, so it comes out with straight spelling.  _ Mommy H-E-I-R-L-O-O-M. _

“Mom Heirloom?” Another nod and thumbs up. Adrien never faltered with encouragement when it came to his friend learning. Alya was learning, too, and Marinette already knew some on her own after being deaf, needing hearing aids that she didn’t actually use very often, not that anyone needed to know that. “So you got it from your mom?” Another nod. “Passed on to?” 

He nods again, smiling. His right hand holds up, left down before flipping to two. It’s followed by his two fingers hooked over each other, just barely not touching as they jump forward.  _ Death gift. _ He doesn’t know what to call it, what to call the passed on broach left to him. 

“Death gift. That’s a bit morbid,” Nino laughs, smiling nonetheless. “You doing okay?” 

He nods, fingers pinching together in an  _ okay _ symbol. He holds two fingers up at his friend. It’s just the letter  _ U, _ but it gets his point across. 

“I’m great! Listen, me and Alya were planning on having a sleepover with Marinette, Luka, and Kagami since Marinette seems to be getting the hots for Luka and Kagami. We wanted to know if you wanted to join, too!” 

He points to himself. His hands cross in front of him before somewhat pointing at Nino, pulled back. 

“Me what,” Nino asks, brow raised. 

_ I-N-T-R-U-D-E. _

“You’re not intruding!?

_ M-A-R-I. _

“She’s your friend, too, Adrien! I’m sure she won’t mind you being there! Especially since you’re, like, moral support, too! She needs her best buds there!” 

Adrien’s face drops in surprise. Tears spring in his eyes as he weakly spells out _ Best buds? _ Marinette considered him one of her best buds? 

“Woah, woah, dude, you okay? You’re part of her best buds group with me and Alya? Is that good or bad?” 

He slowly brings his right hand down on top of his left, palms facing up.  _ Good. _ It’s really good. He wants to sob. Sure, they’ve known each other for almost two years now, but they’re  _ really _ best buds? It makes his heart hammer in his chest happily. His hands sit an inch apart in front of him, coming to his chest in a praising sort of look, touching.  _ Ask, _ it says for him, the one that means to ask for permission of some sort. It’s different from the point up, close to his chest that extends forward in a slight hook of his index finger. It was commonly used by Adrien, so Nino obviously knew it. He doesn’t even have to get confirmation of it. 

“Just tell Nathalie it’s a study session or that it’s for a project? Or even that you just need a day off? You do have tomorrow off, right?"

Adrien nods. He doesn’t work for one Saturday a month after harsh insistence and begging on his part. Nathalie had reluctantly agreed, albeit he now worked heavily on Sundays, often taking night time photoshoots. He liked night time photoshoots, though. They were pretty and calming, much more so than he wanted to confess to anyone. They help his nerves because it was cooler outside and the lights weren’t as harsh. It also meant he’d get a few pictures during golden hour more often than not. 

He’s quick to swipe out his phone, asking if he can stay at Luka’s, which was where the little session was going to be held, all technically set up by Juleka, despite the girl having a date with Rose. He doesn’t lie, just telling the woman. Despite her tough exterior, she  _ did _ care for Adrien and  _ did _ like his friends. She trusted them. She doesn’t deny him. She knows how much he craves attention and affection. His friends can certainly always provide that without hesitation. 

The only thing Nathalie has to tell him is that he’s going to be late, having a photo shoot that will most likely fall late into the night. Nino gets confirmation from Luka that it isn’t a problem, as well as Juleka. Both say it’s fine, despite the blonde’s clear worry that it simply  _ isn’t _ okay. It makes his nerves bad, no matter how much they confirm that it’s  _ fine. _ He does get told by his kwamis that it’ll be fine, that they don’t have to worry since the other miraculous holders will be there, that they won’t mind if he’s late in the least, even if Nino and Luka are the only ones to know who he was beneath the mask. 

The reassurances go a long way, even if they don’t understand just how much so. 


	3. Chapter 3

Adrien smiles as he settles beside Luka, curling up beneath the blankets the boy had provided. His binder sat in his bag, discarded moments ago. He had made the fatal mistake of falling asleep in it on the car ride from school to his photoshoot. Normally, he would never even  _ dream _ of falling asleep in it, but the mix between his anxiety and ADHD managed to fuck him over enough that he had fallen asleep almost immediately, getting woken up by his bodyguard, who hadn’t said anything but Adrien knew he was somewhat worried. He always cared about the boy far more than Adrien thinks even his father does now, not that he’d ever let anyone know. He’s just going to keep that thought to himself. 

“Do you need anything,” Kagami asks softly, already laying against Marinette’s side, who was on the other side of Luka, the group curled together, blending just fine. The girl was ready to get up within an instant’s notice, already aware that there were bruises on his ribs. She had to help him take off his binder after he had let out a frustrated whine. It wasn’t the first time she had helped and Adrien knew it wouldn’t be the last. 

He shakes his head, smiling at the dragon miraculous holder. He knows who each member of the group represents, who lies behind the mask. He knows Marinette isn’t  _ just _ Multimouse. He knows she’s Ladybug, too, adorned in that red and black outfit just this morning when Adrien had  _ almost _ gone out as Le Paon Noir instead of just Chat Noir, too caught up in being The Black Peacock. He had almost fumbled, but he knows he won’t do it again, not after he realized the second miraculous sat beneath the suit unless he called for it, to which it sat on the outside. 

He knows about Alya and Nino, too. They switched miraculouses every now and again, fucking with Hawkmoth. Every once in a while. Dragonbug and Snake Noir would make an appearance, too, but that was only during desperate times, as Adrien didn’t like playing the role of Aspik, not after the first time where he had spent literal  _ months _ trying to save Ladybug, which never worked out until Viperion had managed to save them. Snake Noir looked far too much like Aspik. He hopes Marinette doesn’t remember his time as the 2-minute hero. 

“Aright,” Kagami says, turning towards the television. Alya was putting on a movie, one that none of the others got to know what it would be. As he had found, movie nights consisted of them playing Russian Roullette with Alya’s movie tastes and whoever else was dedicated to picking a collection movies or show to binge. 

Alya smirks, slipping in beside Nino, who was instantly pushed closer to Adrien, not that he minded. He liked the company, liked the physical constant. No one really knew how much he  _ didn’t mind _ the physical contact that  _ always _ came with being around his friends. It’s grounding and helps his nerves settle. Even when he was losing his shit amd everything felt like too much. Physical contact could always lul him into a calm state. So, he doesn’t comment a single thing when Nino’s arm wraps wound his shoulders or when Luka wraps an arm around his waist. Not even when Kagami and Marinette play with his and Luka’s hair or Alya lays across his and Nino’s laps. He relaxes into the touch. If not for the fact that he had somehow managed to learn how not to purr around his friends, he’s sure he’d be purring up a storm. If he physically had them, he’d certainly be spreading his tail feathers for them, too. 

“Adrien,” Marinette suddenly supplies, voice calm as she watches the movie more than anything. His eyes flicker towards her. “Are you alright?” 

He nods, frowning. Of course, he’s alright? His hands move without thought.  _ I in trouble, _ he asks, feeling like a heavy brick had been laid on his chest. 

She shakes her head instantly. “Oh, no, sorry! You were just kind of zoned out! I’ve been saying your name for a minute or two now….” 

His cheeks turn bright red, flushing. What had he been thinking about? He doesn’t even  _ know. _ He can’t remember it. He rubs a closed palm over his chest, knuckles hitting the broach.  _ Sorry. _

“You’re fine, Adrien! Penny for your thoughts?” 

He just shrugs. He isn’t sure. He doesn’t even remember what he was thinking about. His fingers press to his forehead before moving to a thumbs up.  _ Forgot. _

“That’s okay,” Luka says with a soft smile. He’s more leaning on Adrien with his arms around the other’s waist than anything, but the boy doesn’t mind. It’s a nice little gesture. “Alya wants to know if you want to watch another movie or if you want to go to sleep.” 

He presses the base of his left palm to the meaty part of his thumb, hands presented in front of him as he shakes his left.  _ Movie. _ He wasn’t ready to fall asleep, not yet. Falling asleep meant that he’d have to think out a million different scenarios but all in dream form. He wasn’t ready for that, not yet, not that it even really mattered. It’d happen soon, sure, but the boy wasn’t even tired, not yet. 

Alya smirks as she puts on another movie, one that he only recognizes because it’s the singular movie he had watched with his father since his mother had closed her eyes. 

_ Solitude, _ he mouths softly, eyes going wide as he watches it. He wonders if Alya is even aware of it, even aware that she had dug up a bucket of memories that made Adrien feel a million different emotions, none of which are inherently  _ good. _ He keeps that to himself, fingers digging into his own thigh as he watches. He doesn’t move through the whole movie, doesn’t let a singular peep leave him. Instead, he wraps his hand around the peacock miraculous. 

“The blonde kind of looks like you,” Alya states when they’re near the end, looking up at Adrien from her spot on his lap. Her eyes widen as she yelps, “Holy  _ shit, _ Adrien!” 

Adrien flinches at the loud noise but shuts his eyes tightly. Tears leak down his rosey cheeks as he squeezes them. An  _ almost _ silent sob leaves him. He hadn’t cried over his mother in so long. Why was he suddenly brought to tears over this? He hadn’t even cried when his father watched it with him. Then again, he had tried to detach himself as much as he could then. He  _ hated _ crying in front of people, even as a kid. Despite that, he doesn’t seem to mind now. He sniffles, reduced to sobs because Alya had simply  _ addressed him. _ His father would certainly cause a fuss the instant he realized such. 

“Dude, what’s wrong,” Alya tries as Nino pauses the movie. 

Adrien presses his face into his hands. He  _ knows _ he looks like his mother, that’s how blood families _ worked. _ He looked  _ just _ like his cousin, after all, even though they weren’t too much alike. He lets another sob roll from him. Why the  _ fuck _ was he crying? 

“Shit, did I say something? Was that bad? Adrien, I didn’t mean-” 

He presses his hand to her mouth, shaking his head. He normally wouldn’t dare think of touching his other friend’s mouths, but he knows that she won’t stop until he stops her his own self. He points to the screen, frowning at the blonde who still stood ina grand outfit. His hands shakily movie.  _ E-M-I-L-I-E, Maman. _ He lets the tears roll, sniffling. 

“That’s your  _ mom,” _ Marinette asks, brows furrowed and mouth open in shock. 

He nods, wiping his face. His index finger joints up, jutting down before jutting back to his chest, followed by his hand jutting out, palm facing them all.  _ Miss her. _ He misses her, really does. It was impossible not to. She was his  _ mother _ and she  _ loved him. _ She even made his name change official, too, convincing Gabriel that is wasn’t a phase. How could he  _ not _ love her? How could he not  _ miss _ her? 

“I’m  _ so _ sorry,” Alya says without hesitation. 

_ Stop, _ he motions before she can get into that bit of blame. He doesn’t want to watch her self destruct, not if he can prevent it. He can  _ comfort her. _ There was no point in letting her push on if he could help her relent. He pulls her into a tight hug, smiling at her, even as silent cries leave him. He loves his friends, loves  _ Alya. _ He doesn’t want her pinning it on herself. So, when he pulls away, he easily supplies, _ Good cry. Not bad. _

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments! I love them! 
> 
> here's my discord server!  
https://discord.gg/eGkwayy


End file.
